In three and one-half weeks we will have been in the townhouse for a year.  It hardly seems like a year, but the alignment of the stars seems to bear out the calculations.  While we’ve done a lot with the place, I’m having some trouble with the whole one-year anniversary as kind of a line in the sand.  For another 23 days I can point at the ugly green paint in the master bedroom and the two remaining hanging lights downstairs and a list of other things and blame them on Freddie Mac and the prior owners.  We inherited that – we’ll take care of it soon.  After one year, at least in my mind, the line changes to it was here when we got here, but we didn’t put it very high on the priority list of fixes.  There is a statute of limitations so to speak, and at some point the remaining eyesores are ours.  Don’t get me wrong – I love the townhouse and am very proud of all the improvements we’ve made.  Just expect a last-minute flurry of knocking out some of these projects before the tenth to help my own peace of mind.

We welcomed in 2012 with a wonderful jolt of refreshing coldness at our sixth Penguin Plunge, and the year has gotten off to a great start.  Nothing like this though:

1st day of 2012 from Benjamin Dowie on Vimeo.

Just a little multimedia help for the kiddies who never read books.

[via Seduced by the New]

With two weeks to go until Christmas we went up to Disneyland Sunday for a little shopping and a chance to for our little Sith Bobblelord Darth Santa to check out the decor.  The results were great, and are all in their very own little gallery.  Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun with a little plastic toy in years, and the response from other guests and cast members at the park were fabulous.

It’s been more than eight years since the radiation, and there are still no signs of cancer returning.  So why do I dread this afternoon’s checkup so much?

The 2010 holidays kinda fizzled around here.  We were in escrow on the new place and never really committed to decorating, and didn’t want to unpack a lot of decorations we’d only have to pack up again a couple weeks later (the escrow was originally scheduled to close on Christmas Eve).

Having a blast decorating the new house though, and out of frustration with work, and just a bit of idlehandedness, I’ve turned to the dark side for Howling Point’s host of the new decor.  Our revered and beloved Darth Santa bobble debuted here in 2009, having been adopted in Vegas earlier that year.  He’s back now, making certain everything is fully operational for the arrival of the Man in Red later this month.  More documentation of his efforts (prequels, sequels, and maybe even an animated Life Day special), not to mention 3-D remasterings scheduled for 2020, will be forthcoming.

Things haven’t actually been slow, just too busy to post here.  Spending more time playing on Facebook, and spent too much time this month cleaning up a hack attack on my server that completely shut down the photo gallery and messed up a lot of other things.  Law work and holiday preparations and Cal cheering and the supreme purpose of my life, i.e, holding Diego’s leash and gushing over at his ability to sniff and poop have also kept me away from here.

We survived our first Halloween in the new place last night.  We had a good time, and will be in sugar comas for weeks, but I ended up a tad disappointed by the neighborhood.  We expected more trick-or-treaters than in prior years because there are more children here than in the old neighborhood, but they just didn’t materialize.

I saw no trick-or-treaters going door-to-door.  We gave out candy to a total of eight kids, but those were kids Randy called out to as they were walking past our patio.  The local practice seems to involve kids being driven to group events and not actually working the neighborhood.  At least we know now, and I won’t feel guilty letting the condo stay dark next year so we can go to a party ourselves.

And one of the world’s longest-serving dictators is no more. – Barack Obama

While I certainly wouldn’t want anything to disrupt what should be a joyous day celebrating the death of the monster Gaddafi, I have to admit to a double take when I heard this line on the radio this morning.  Let’s get something straight.  Dictatorship is not a form of service, public or otherwise.

When I first started self-employment 10+ years ago, some wise people in the same position gave me some good advice: no matter what you’re working on, or not working on, make sure you get dressed and get out every day. Shake a hand, not scowl at a stranger, etc.

Now, with a bigger house and a dog and fishies to care for, plus a lack of gym attendance pending some healing, I find I’ve been ignoring that sound counsel.  It really hit me this morning when Randy asked if I’d be out today (and could restock coffee) and I had to pause and think because I DIDN’T KNOW.  It was kinduva rude realization, and not pleasant at all.  Time to get back to the good practices that’ve kept me sane in this business for so long